07 January 2012

Post-it Notes of hope

Last night, I slept badly. I tossed and turned, mind half awake and waiting for my alarm to sound. It was deeply frustrating. I was wakeful because I was worried. There's a lot ahead of me this weekend, not bad things just stuff that needs juggling. Each challenge felt like another ball I must keep in the air and I was mentally limbering up for today's throwing and catching.

After a bracing pre-dawn walk, the door of the 24-7 Prayer Room closed behind a friend and I found myself alone with God. After a poor night of rest I was up early and here was my opportunity to splurge my head noise in prayer. I kneeled down to pray the entering liturgy we've written for the week and started to hand God everything in my head. One line in particular jumped out at me:

"In this hour I will give myself to the work of prayer, this is about God's concerns not mine."

It pulled me up short, I could easily fill the hour with worries and pleas (and this wouldn't necessarily be wrong), but what if God had other ideas? I walked around the room looking for how the space had changed since my last visit - it's one of my favourite things about these sacred spaces. I love seeing the prayer room fill with prayers , dreams, ideas, art work and catch a glimpse of what God's up to in our community. Each day it's different, each day another 24(ish) people have taken an hour out of life to see what happens when they say 'hi' to Jesus.

As I reach the Wailing Wall / Wailing Cargo Net I spotted a prayer I had written just yesterday. I'd scribbled it in tears and it represent the thing I've wrestled most with in the last year. On top of my little yellow plea was a green post-it note. On that green post it note someone had written a few simple words, an echoing prayer. It did my heart the world of good to see that someone else cared enough to spend part of their hour praying for me. That was it - all my plans were out the window. The next hour wouldn't be about my stress, my concerns; the next hour would be about the other prayers pinned to this slightly musty smelling net.

I worked my way along the wall reading the anonymous prayers of others and the little Green post-it notes of encouragement stuck to them. As I began to add my amen to those who'd gone before me I felt the stress I'd been carrying start to ebb away. I was moved by the single word pleas, the three different posts about struggling with cancer and the beautiful heartfelt prayers of love and hope.

To end my hour I posted a prayer on blue paper for assistance with my day. By the time I finally wrote my prayer I felt entirely different about it. I placed it among dozens of others and knew I was leaving my life in good hands. As the next person knocked on the door, my fatigue and the day ahead seemed demoted in my awareness and gratitude had taken it's place. Prayer Rooms are good for me :)

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Post-it Notes of hope

Last night, I slept badly. I tossed and turned, mind half awake and waiting for my alarm to sound. It was deeply frustrating. I was wakeful because I was worried. There's a lot ahead of me this weekend, not bad things just stuff that needs juggling. Each challenge felt like another ball I must keep in the air and I was mentally limbering up for today's throwing and catching.

After a bracing pre-dawn walk, the door of the 24-7 Prayer Room closed behind a friend and I found myself alone with God. After a poor night of rest I was up early and here was my opportunity to splurge my head noise in prayer. I kneeled down to pray the entering liturgy we've written for the week and started to hand God everything in my head. One line in particular jumped out at me:

"In this hour I will give myself to the work of prayer, this is about God's concerns not mine."

It pulled me up short, I could easily fill the hour with worries and pleas (and this wouldn't necessarily be wrong), but what if God had other ideas? I walked around the room looking for how the space had changed since my last visit - it's one of my favourite things about these sacred spaces. I love seeing the prayer room fill with prayers , dreams, ideas, art work and catch a glimpse of what God's up to in our community. Each day it's different, each day another 24(ish) people have taken an hour out of life to see what happens when they say 'hi' to Jesus.

As I reach the Wailing Wall / Wailing Cargo Net I spotted a prayer I had written just yesterday. I'd scribbled it in tears and it represent the thing I've wrestled most with in the last year. On top of my little yellow plea was a green post-it note. On that green post it note someone had written a few simple words, an echoing prayer. It did my heart the world of good to see that someone else cared enough to spend part of their hour praying for me. That was it - all my plans were out the window. The next hour wouldn't be about my stress, my concerns; the next hour would be about the other prayers pinned to this slightly musty smelling net.

I worked my way along the wall reading the anonymous prayers of others and the little Green post-it notes of encouragement stuck to them. As I began to add my amen to those who'd gone before me I felt the stress I'd been carrying start to ebb away. I was moved by the single word pleas, the three different posts about struggling with cancer and the beautiful heartfelt prayers of love and hope.

To end my hour I posted a prayer on blue paper for assistance with my day. By the time I finally wrote my prayer I felt entirely different about it. I placed it among dozens of others and knew I was leaving my life in good hands. As the next person knocked on the door, my fatigue and the day ahead seemed demoted in my awareness and gratitude had taken it's place. Prayer Rooms are good for me :)